Authors: Massimo Russo
Chapter 28
The cold continued its mission, trying to get some pay-back from the warmth hidden in human hearts. It didn’t usually take long to burrow in there, but that morning was different. People’s hearts were filled with sadness, making it hard to find company. Norman trudged along with the others and suddenly felt swamped by a sense of emptiness and resignation. He tried to fight it by thinking that revenge would solve a lot of problems, not just his own. He had the address he wanted and was approaching what was probably the only building tall enough to touch the sky. No other building was quite so majestic. He thought how tiny the mind of man was if it could only measure greatness by material things.
The doorman swung open the door and smiled at him, wishing him a lovely day. He didn’t reply to the greeting, since it was anything but a lovely day. The inside of the building mirrored the façade, beaming his brain beyond the concept of infinity. The central corridor alone could have been divided into twenty four-bedroom apartments, though it merely led to the reception desk fronting the offices. The paintings on the walls showed that the owner had good taste; he hoped they hadn’t been stolen from someone, like his poems.
He walked toward the brawniest man he had ever seen, some kind of bouncer as well as a member of the welcoming committee. He expected to be stopped, frisked and questioned about the reason for his visit, but instead received the same cordial greeting the doorman had given and was shown into the empty elevator to his left.
Norman hurried inside, nonplussed by how smoothly everything was going. The elevator doors swished shut, and he was left with the choice of which button to press to be transported to another dimension where he would truly know himself and be forced to take on the responsibilities expected of him. He thought of where he would locate his office if he were the owner and pressed the penthouse button; no one would build such a tall building unless he wanted to contemplate his fellowmen from a great height. The elevator sped upwards and, thanks to the wonders of modern technology, he reached his destination in less than a minute.
When the elevator doors opened, he entered the room of his dreams. The floor and walls were the colors of the imagination; one could lose oneself just by looking at them, swept away on a journey that took the senses to far-distant and marvelous places. He decided that one day he would have a room like that in his own house. For a second, he unwittingly admired the man he was going to kill for creating a place where anyone would have been happy to die.
Strangely enough, no one was there, and he was hard pressed to understand why no one had stopped him. Luc had probably warned O’Neal that someone from his past would pay him a visit. It wouldn’t have surprised him; the man’s ambiguity jarred with his affable manner. He peered through doors that opened onto other rooms, but saw no one. He moved stealthily to avoid being taken by surprise by someone who wanted to make him believe he was bait in a game. He heard noises coming towards him and considered hiding, but could find no good reason to do so; if they hadn’t wanted him to come up, they would have let him know long before now. In all likelihood, O’Neal had been told by the man at reception and it was him. He tiptoed towards the door so that he wouldn’t be caught unawares. His heart beat a strange rhythm, fueling fears he was trying to quell. He was in an ice-cold sweat, but tried to keep control by any means possible. His instinct was to stand behind the door and strike before O’Neal could speak so that the unpleasant episode could be over and done with. Curiosity stopped him more than the situation itself, which urged him to find an alternative to his terrible plan, given that someone might be watching him via a hidden camera, not to mention the giant who had seen him several minutes earlier. He was dying to meet the man who had stolen a piece of his life in order to exploit it in the most remunerative way possible; he was dying to know how the hell he had come by his book and how he knew Julia, his only suspect.
He thought of her for a second; a second that was long enough to show him the reel of their entire love story. He had forgotten the vital role the woman had played in his life. He had forgotten the tenderness of her embraces that made him feel unique emotions. He only had himself to blame if her love for him had died. How often he had left her alone to go out with his friends. How often lethargy had stopped him from talking to her. How often he had waived every decision about their relationship because of his egotism. He had neglected her to chase those dreams of his that had little to do with love. And now, there he was, with a case chock-full of money just as he had always dreamed, but which he would willingly give up if only he could turn back the clock. He was standing in front of a strange door waiting for a man he had never wanted to meet, ready to carry out an act he had never wanted to commit, in order to face a deeply detested fate he had never wanted to confront.
Chapter 29
Celine stroked Will’s forehead as she always did to calm him after a bad attack. She spoke softly, whispering in his ear words that had become a kind of pact, which no one present could understand. She remembered all the problems they had faced and solved together, but everything had changed now; she had doubted and lost her strength of will and no one could blame her. No one could complain if she had decided to stop following the path she had taken. And, she thought, no one should dare to judge her. What she was doing was purely for herself and for no one else. It was reparation for all the hurt she had suffered, compensation for having no kind of life for so long. In one fell swoop, she would solve all the problems that haunted her.
They had promised her a great deal of money if she provided them with the formula engraved on her son’s mind. All she had to do was face afresh the ordeals she had already been through and make Will the sacrificial lamb. As soon as he saw the numbers again, he would fall foul of another attack, just as he had the first time when he went into a coma trying to solve that damned equation. His heart wouldn’t cope with another powerful emotion like that. From her point of view, however, she wouldn’t be killing him, but simply freeing him by opening the door to a better world, where he would finally learn how to walk, look, feel and love without anyone else’s help. He would learn what it means to be conscious. At last, he would know life with all its marvelous colors and imperfections and curious contradictions. He would look back on his own existence and agree with the decision that only a courageous mother can make.
After meeting Luc, Celine had become withdrawn and silent and had mentally played back her life in slow motion. Eventually, she had made her decision and called Tommy Queen. She had met him in his office on the top floor of an elegant building, and had felt uncomfortable but determined, free to contemplate a future she had never imagined existed. He had explained the plan to liberate the world from its chains and provide the light necessary to obtain happiness. The key to success was embedded in the mind of a fifteen-year-old autistic boy, and the way to get hold of it was in her hands, or rather, her words. At first, she had hesitated, burdened by fears and pangs of conscience, but when Tommy had shown her the reward and the freedom she would enjoy, everything changed. Not for one moment had she thought of involving her husband because it would have been beyond his powers of imagination. It was up to her alone, with the strength born of desperation. That evening, she had gone home and prepared dinner for her family, the kind of simple meal that Paul and Will liked. Then she had gone to bed and let all the bitterness she felt seep away among the night’s stars, knowing that the following morning her new life would begin.
Tommy walked over to her and handed her a sheet of paper with a series of numbers written on it. She looked at them with profound contempt and total incomprehension. They had explained to her that the equation would change the world, but she was only interested in changing the rest of her life.
She slid the sheet across the table so that her son could see it. She did it so slowly that it seemed almost a taunt to those present, but in the end she did it. Will was writing solutions in the book that he had been given earlier.
“Will. Listen to me, Will. We have to play another game now. It’s another problem to solve. You’ve already done it once, so all you have to do now is write the solution again. Then I’ll give you a nice sandwich with chocolate spread and a cup of warm milk, the way you like it. And I’ll tell you a lovely fairytale before you go to sleep.”
The boy stopped writing and sat motionless for a few seconds before showing he was happy with the reward he would shortly receive. He stared at the sheet and began to squirm. His mother had seen him do this before and tried to calm him by hugging him tightly, but he was in the throes of uncontrollable tremors. He began to froth at the mouth and it was far worse than it had ever been before. He was about to faint, and would probably never regain consciousness this time.
“Come on, Will. Come on. You’re going to be free. Write what you know. Please, Will. Please!”
The boy turned his eyes to her and she saw all the innocence of his soul there. She was so afraid that she began to tremble herself. What was happening was her fault. She was about to kill her child, she was about to sweep a piece of her life into a corner of her mind, but she couldn’t help herself.
“Please, Will. Don’t leave me this way!”
The boy tried to control himself, but had no idea what it meant. He picked up the biro that had slipped from his fingers onto the table and, with the fortitude of one who is leaving the only thing the future will remember, wrote what his mind prompted. He glanced for the last time at his mother, and she looked at him with the bottomless pain that only someone who is losing a child can comprehend. Then, as only happens to angels, he left his body and fell into the deepest sleep known to humankind.
Celine’s face was blank as she looked at her unconscious son and she was filled with more pity for him than she had ever felt. Simultaneously, she felt a great sense of freedom that remorse tried to erase, but the initial shudder was immediately quashed. From that moment on, she would be able to start over. She touched Will’s neck and knew that his heart was finally free to travel anywhere in the world and mingle with the air, like smoke in the wind. She, on the other hand, would stay on earth with all the memories that bound her to him, through a scribble written at death’s door on a piece of paper, like a gesture of farewell and an act of acknowledgement. She kissed his cheek, proving that fate also has a brand symbolizing betrayal. She stood up and read what was supposed to be the most incredible discovery in the history of man. She looked at Tommy and handed him the paper.
“This is my son’s message.”
“Damn it! What’s all this? This isn’t what he was supposed to write. You said he’d already solved the problem once!”
“He had. He spoke to God and now he’s told you what to do.”
Tommy stared at the writing without understanding its meaning. There was only one person who could help him solve the riddle, the man whose name was etched clearly on his mind. If he ever happened to forget it, he could re-read the words Will had scrawled on the sheet he was clutching, words that should have held the solution to a problem never solved in the history of man, but which instead said: Ryan A. Mr. O’Neal.
Chapter 30
The door opened. The figure on the threshold was shrouded by the dazzle of halogen lamps from the adjacent offices and corridor. The calm and unmistakable voice was so familiar that it dispelled any doubts about him being a stranger.
“Hello, Norman. So we meet again today.”
“So you’re O’Neal? I might have known ...”
“Don’t jump to conclusions. You’ll meet the person you’re waiting for soon enough. I’m sorry to disappoint you, but I’m here for another reason.”
“And what’s that?”
“Your fate. You’ll agree that plenty of things have changed since we first met.”
“Right. I found out I’ve got a son who brightened my life, and then I was flung into a black chasm when I was told about his illness. But I’m here to make things right.”
“And you think O’Neal can help you?”
“Oh yes. He and I have a certain matter pending and I intend to settle it with interest.”
“Your heart’s full of anger. I don’t think it’s going to help you.”
“My heart stopped feeling anything a long time ago. Now I live with the emotions of another person.”
“Having your mother’s heart doesn’t necessarily mean feeling her emotions. Allow me to suggest that a sacrifice always deserves at least a little respect.”
“Your opinion has no effect on me at all at this moment in time.”
“Really? Then why is your voice so strained? Isn’t it because of the feelings of guilt you’ve been carrying around inside for years, guilt that’s slowly been eroding all the love you felt, like a drop of water helped by time?”
“That’s enough! You don’t know a damn thing about what I feel. You’re just desperate to find something I can’t give you!”
“You’re wrong. My search ends right here, in this room. I’ve been following you for quite a while, you know.”
“And would you mind telling me why?”
Norman stepped closer to the man to make it clear that he was not above resorting to violence if his question was left unanswered.
“Who are you and why are you so interested in my heart, my son and the whole of my frigging life? Leave me in peace!”
“You lost peace a long time ago and I’m certainly not to blame. You are - you and your choices and mistakes. Every day is created to show us a stretch of the path we have to take, but it’s up to us whether we follow it or not. And if you’ve reached this pretty pass, it’s because of the choices you’ve made or not made.”
“What do you know about my choices? Have you been talking to my fate by any chance?”
“No. But you could. What would you say to it if it were here now instead of me?”